


Ceasefire

by kentucka



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Christmas, Flirting, Leonard Snart-style, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka/pseuds/kentucka
Summary: Len and Barry run into each other on Christmas Day... and as usual, Len can't stop teasing.(set towards the end of s1/beginning of s2)
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	Ceasefire

**Author's Note:**

> I found this short little thing in my WIPs, the lonely fill for a Christmas-themed prompt challenge (how typical of me). Anyways, it would be sad not to post it, so here is some holiday cheer.

Len perused the meagre selection of beers at the corner store. Mick was going to be pissed if he ran out. But even more worrisome was Lisa’s reaction if she had to switch from her favorite import to something as pedestrian and generic as a Corona. Not that this place offered much other choice. Len sighed, and grabbed a six-pack of Steel Reserve - at least this one was stronger.

At the other end of the store, the bell above the door tinkled. Len paid it no mind, and headed for the cashier. He rounded the last shelf and was suddenly shoulder-checked hard, almost let go of the beer, saved it only with crime-trained reflexes. “What the--” he was already snarling, ready to give the other person a piece of his mind. But then he looked.

Barry freaking Allen.

“I’m so sorry,” Barry said, picking up fallen bags of chips at normal speed. Then he slowed even more. Crouching on the floor, he turned, recognition of Len’s voice obviously filtering in.

Barry blinked up at him, and Len smirked. “Fancy running into you here... Barry.” Len eyed Barry’s get-up; the soft and worn look of dark jogging pants and hoodie, drawstrings missing, the red jacket pulled over it for added warmth. He was running around in civilian clothing so it made sense to address him this way, but Len also enjoyed immensely the reminder that he knew The Flash’s identity.

As expected, Barry scowled. Maybe at the bad pun, maybe at Len in general. Riling the kid up was so easy, it almost wasn’t challenge enough for Len to bother. “Snart,” Barry replied, standing up carefully. He looked around for a second, eyes darting just a tad too fast to be considered human. “You’re not going to rob this place on Christmas, are you?”

There was no Cold Gun against Len’s thigh. No parka with a fake fur hood obscuring half his face. He still had his backup .38 tucked into his jeans, but that was standard protection - he’d made plenty of enemies even before the metas arrived. Nothing for Barry to concern himself with.

A smoothing of Barry’s features told him that indeed, it had mostly been a rhetorical question. Len’s grin widened. He slithered forwards a half-step, moving into Barry’s personal space just to see him squirm. “Call it a Christmas ceasefire,” he whispered.

He stayed just long enough to watch Barry’s pupils widen, amused and triumphant. Then he stepped up to the cash register and paid for the beer.

As he walked out, Barry bought his snacks, and by the time Len reached the door, the speedster had caught up with him.

“Snart.” Barry sounded close, but also hesitant.

The sliding door had already opened at Len’s approach, the wet-cold December air blowing in. Still, he turned, eyebrow raised. Barry was indeed within arm’s reach.

“Umm,” Barry stalled. A flush crept up his cheeks. Quietly, he finally added, “Merry Christmas, I guess.”

Len chuckled, a warmth in his chest spreading despite the wind whipping around them. This kid. So full of principles and hope. It shone out of his big blue eyes, radiated out of his entire being, almost painful to watch for a cynist like Len. And so Len did something he usually never allowed himself: he acted without thinking. Pressed a kiss against Barry’s blush-warm cheek.

“Wha--?” Barry startled, but Len just cut his eyes upwards at the tacky plastic mistletoe garland along the doorway. And with another eyebrow-wiggle, he ducked outside, laughing to himself over Barry’s affected surprise, although the second of Len inching closer must have felt like an age to The Flash. Who was the kid kidding?


End file.
